


Kissing Alyssa Greene

by nightlikesummersnow



Category: The Prom - Sklar/Beguelin/Martin
Genre: F/F, Kissing Jessica Stein AU, we love (1) 2001 independent romantic comedy film
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:07:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21663442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightlikesummersnow/pseuds/nightlikesummersnow
Summary: Alyssa Greene did not go on dates with women very often. In fact, she had never, ever gone a date with a woman before. Until she found herself standing outside of a local café on a Saturday night, with a woman, whom Alyssa had asked to meet for dinner, presumably waiting inside....“I just think you can’t possibly know who you are or how you’ll respond to something until you try it,” Emma said.“I happen to disagree,” Alyssa sniffed. “I happen to think that if you know yourself well, you can gauge how you’re going to react to anything.or, a Kissing Jessica Stein AU.
Relationships: Alyssa Greene/Emma Nolan
Comments: 20
Kudos: 67





	1. Chapter 1

Alyssa Greene was trying very hard not to be concerned about her dating prospects.

“Trying” was the operative word.

At 26 years old, with less dating experience than her middle school cousin, Alyssa was starting to wonder if there was something wrong with her. No matter how many dates she went on, how many men she met for drinks or Sunday brunch, it always ended the same: with a hollow, empty feeling of going through the motions. Sort of like how she felt when she went to church with her mother.

Alyssa Greene did not go to church very often.

Not because she didn’t care about religion. She just didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about the afterlife, and was pretty sure good deeds were good deeds, never mind the heaven and hell part of things.

And it wasn’t that the priest she had been listening to since she was a child couldn’t hold a tune. He couldn’t, but the rest of the church population was usually loud enough to cover up his off-key screeching.

It was that somehow, even if Alyssa only went to make her mother happy during her visits home, Veronica Greene could never actually focus on the _church_ part of church. For a woman who took the word of her lord very seriously, whenever Alyssa was next to her in the pew, Mrs. Greene cared less about Him and more about him: the nearest man she could set Alyssa up with. Alyssa reluctantly agreed to accompany her mother to church on her most recent visit back home, hoping against hope that this time, there would be no attempts at improving her sorry romantic life.

No such luck.

“Alyssa,” her mother hissed. “Do you see that boy across the aisle? With the dark hair and the blue tie?”

“Uh-huh,” Alyssa whispered back.

“That’s Kyle Lim. He was in your high school class, remember?”

“Shh,” Alyssa muttered.

“I heard he’s newly single. And he’s always been such a nice boy.”

“Mm.”

“Why don’t you talk to him at the luncheon after the service? Catch up!” Mrs. Greene said hopefully.

“I never really liked Kyle,” Alyssa told her mother, trying to keep her voice down.

“You are twenty-six years old. You haven’t dated in a year. I’m starting to become afraid you’ll be alone forever.”

“Mom,” Alyssa shook her head, trying to pay attention to the sermon. Anything was better than this.

“Act quickly! He’s a catch. And you can’t be too picky, nowadays.”

“Shh, he’ll hear you—”

“Good!” Mrs. Greene said. “Start the conversation. Why don’t you tell him about—"

“Mom, would you shut up? I’m atoning!” Alyssa said, shrilly.

Every pew in front of them turned back to glare at her.

“Shh…” Mrs. Greene said, raising an eyebrow at her daughter as she flipped to the next page in her hymn book.

Alyssa sunk down in her seat. And took advantage of her surroundings to pray that Kyle Lim would not be approaching her after the sermon had concluded.

\---

Alyssa was only in Edgewater, Indiana for the weekend. But her mother managed to turn the church luncheon into a speed-dating event, leading Alyssa from table to table and introducing her to every man in their path.

Alyssa figured she’d humor her and engage with them, painful as it was. Jules, the first man Alyssa “just _had_ to meet,” shook her hand as she introduced herself.

“So, you work out much?” Jules asked Alyssa as her mother wandered off, probably in search of yet another eligible bachelor.

“Um, I try to,” Alyssa offered. “I think the gym can just feel sort of…narcissistic to me? I mean, does anyone really like it?”

“Oh, I do. I really get a high from all those _endorphomins_ pumping.” He stretched one arm above his head, checking out his own bicep.

Alyssa smiled weakly. “Excuse me for a moment.” She made her way back over to her mother’s side. Unfortunately, once Mrs. Greene turned around, Alyssa could see she had company.

“This is Greg!” Mrs. Greene announced. “He’s an accountant. I’m sure you’ll have a lot to discuss!”

“Are you also an accountant?” Greg asked.

“No. Copywriter.”

“Ah. I don't know anything about copywriting. But I love that bag. Gucci?”

“I wish. TJ Maxx,” Alyssa said.

“Ugh, you’re kidding. I’d never have guessed! I’ll have to make it over to the outlets one of these days,” he cooed, patting his over-gelled hair.

“Greg,” someone called from the direction of the buffet.

“Oops, that’s my cue,” he sighed. “Nice meeting you!” He trotted off with the strut of a man with far better things to do.

“What did you think of him?” Mrs. Greene whispered in Alyssa’s ear as she materialized behind her daughter.

Alyssa watched him amble up to Kevin Shield, another former high school classmate of hers, and give him a lingering hug. “I don’t think it’s going to work out.”

\---

Alyssa managed to escape the weekend relatively unscathed. But it also left a bitter taste in her mouth. One that even her daily lunch of a yogurt, fruit, and turkey wrap couldn’t get rid of.

“Bye, Mom,” Alyssa had said as she gave her mother a hug at the airport.

“Good-bye, sweetheart,” Mrs. Greene cooed, squeezing her daughter tightly. “Remember what we talked about!”

Alyssa smiled faded as she pulled away. “Keep dating. Don’t be too picky. I got it, Mom.”

“The family Christmas party will be here before you know it. You don’t want to be the only one without a date by your side.”

“Right. Nothing worse than that,” Alyssa sighed. With a final wave, she pulled up the handle of her suitcase and walked towards the gates. She did love her mother, but she couldn’t wait to get home.

Back at the office on the Monday following her visit home, Alyssa felt sure that this was the turning point to a new era.

“I’m giving up on dating,” Alyssa told her coworkers at lunch. Shelby, and Kaylee, who were used to Alyssa’s stories, or more specifically, tales of misery, about her dates, didn’t seem too fazed.

“What else is new?” Shelby said, taking a sip from her water bottle. “If we’re doing this again, I’m just going to read about climate change.” She tapped the newspaper she was using as a placemat and began flipping through it mindlessly.

“Wait, Alyssa, what happened to Miles?” Kaylee asked. “You went out with him just a few weeks ago.”

“We went out twice,” Alyssa sighed. “It was two times too many.” And poor Miles and those two sorry dinners had been her longest relationship in god knows how long.

“You just need to keep yourself out there,” Kaylee said. “Stay positive!”

“I don’t know about that,” Alyssa said, shaking her head.

“I’m serious. Keep trying. You just need to be yourself,” Kaylee continued.

“Disagree,” said Shelby. “If anything, you should be trying to be a little less yourself. It hasn’t worked out so far.”

“Thanks, Shelb.”

“Well, okay, maybe yourself, but with some extra work on getting along with your dates,” Shelby amended.

“Really, I’m done putting in the effort,” Alyssa said. “The next person who wants to date me is going to have to advertise on a billboard.”

“How about advertising in the classifieds?” Shelby offered.

Alyssa wrinkled her nose. “What?”

“You know, those newspaper ads where people write about what they’re looking for. ‘Adorable single man looking for adorable single woman.’ Like in 90s romantic comedies.”

“What 90s romantic comedies?”

“Come on, give it a chance. Look, this guy says, ‘10 seeking 10.’ Sounds promising,” Shelby said with a wicked grin.

“This is a waste of time. Who even submits to these things?” Alyssa said.

“Axe murderers?” Kaylee offered.

“Do we have to do this now?” Alyssa sighed.

“Yes,” her friends said in unison.

“Why?” Alyssa asked, trying to grab the newspaper from Shelby.

“Because you’re perpetually single, and I’m bored,” Shelby answered, pulling the paper out of Alyssa’s reach as her eyes scanned the page. “How do you feel about a single father of seven?”

“Uh…”

“A 22-year-old in need of a green card?”

“Shelby, come on.”

Shelby laughed. “They should retitle this section, ‘where desperate people find each other.’”

Alyssa cocked an eyebrow at her friend. “I thought that’s what tinder was for?”

“Hey!” Shelby complained, swatting her with the newspaper. “Noah and I _reconnected_ on Tinder. And way harsh to bring that up after a breakup.”

“Isn’t two months long enough that I can make jokes?” Alyssa sighed.

“Anyway, reconnecting isn’t desperate,” Kaylee said.

“No, just embarrassing,” Alyssa snorted.

“Watch yourself, or, I’m going to set you up with this guy, mister ‘Let the whole world melt away and dance with you,’” Shelby said.

Alyssa’s head snapped up. “What was that?”

“Oh, just some cheesy song lyrics. Self-composed. “Who cares what other people say. And when we’re through, no one can convince us that we’re wrong.”

“That’s not too bad,” Alyssa murmured. Cheesy? Maybe. But mostly just sweet. “Does he, um, describe himself?”

“Songwriter extraordinaire? Oh, you’re out of luck. That’s under women seeking women,” Shelby said, flipping the page. “Hey, here’s a guy promising the most exciting date of your life!”

“Anything has to be better than the date I went on last night,” Kaylee sighed. “As in, I’m never going to The Cheesecake Factory on a first date, or maybe any date, ever again.”

Alyssa half-listened to the rest of the lunchtime conversation, smiling every so often at one of Shelby’s jokes or Kaylee’s over-dramatic stories. But her mind was elsewhere. For whatever reason, the whole world had sort of…melted away.

\---

One week prior, Emma Nolan sat in the Broadway Art Gallery, taking notes as her friend/boss/mentor (but today, mostly boss) Dee Dee dictated the details of an incoming shipment of sculptures.

“Your heart isn’t in your note taking today,” Barry commented, breezing past Emma with an armful of boxes. Emma rolled her eyes at the gallery co-owner.

“Is it ever?” she said.

“No, but even more so today. What’s the matter? Bad hair day?” Barry called as he dropped the boxes in the corner. “Dee Dee, get over here and help me unpack these.”

“It really isn’t your best hair day,” Dee Dee agreed as she made her way over to Barry.

“You know, it wasn’t about my hair until now, but thank you for bringing it to my attention.”

“Oh, lighten up,” Barry said, lifting a painting out and leaning it against the wall. “You aren’t moping about your love life again, are you?”

“Lack of a love life,” Dee Dee corrected cheerfully.

“You two are the worst,” Emma said, exasperated. “And I’m allowed to mope. Dating apps are awful. I’m at the end of my rope over here.”

“Your generation goes about this the wrong way. Dating apps are too easy. Too many options,” Dee Dee said. “You need to struggle.”

“I’m struggling.”

“You need to struggle productively,” Barry told her. “Try a new method of meeting people. There are ways other than Thunder, or whatever it’s called.”

“Tinder. And I’m on Hinge, anyway.”

“Whatever.”

Emma sighed. “You’re old. No offense. It’s just, old people meet their partners in weird ways.”

“I’m offended! There’s nothing weird about a newspaper advertisement!” Barry said.

Emma laughed. “I was just talking about the guy you picked up at that viewing party of Hocus Pocus in drag. I forgot you took out a newspaper advertisement to get a boyfriend! I’m shocked it didn’t work out.”

“It did work out. Until he went on sabbatical and decided to go to France for six months. Long distance is a fool’s errand,” Barry frowned.

“He was a very nice man,” Dee Dee told him.

“I know!” Barry whined. “Emma, you, too, could meet a nice young man—”

“Woman.”

“Sorry, I’m distracted with thoughts of my own romantic failures. You’ll have an easier time than me- young people don’t even have jobs to go on sabbatical from. You could meet a nice young _woman_ through the paper if you’d just give it a try.”

“Maybe I will,” Emma shot back. “What should I say? Young lesbian seeking someone her pseudo-parents will approve of?”

“I approve of nothing,” Dee Dee said as she headed out to get more packages.

“Ignore her. This is a great idea!” Barry said excitedly.

“Well, it is something different,” Emma said, starting to warm up to the concept. She ambled over her messenger bag, pulling her laptop out of the cracked leather case. “I guess I could look into placing an ad. What have I got to lose?

“Okay, you’re going to need a short description, a phone number, so they can contact you, and something to make you stand out,” Barry said, leaning over Emma’s shoulder as she started to type. “And ooh, I’ve got just the thing! You need to include a quote from a poem.”

“A poem?”

“You’ll look so brainy and pretentious; the women will be falling all over you!” Barry clapped.

Emma’s eyes lit up. “What about a quote from a song?”

“Ugh, don’t tell me you’re going to include one of your own lyrics,” Barry complained.

“Why not?” Emma said, typing furiously. “What better way is there to get to know me, right?”

“Don’t make it from the song about the rainstorm. God, that one’s depressing.”

“No, that’s not the right one. Maybe the one about avocado toast?”

“Hmm…” Barry said, turning to head back over to the boxes.

“I’ve got it. Dance with You.”

Barry clasped his hands. “Oh, honey, you’re going to have more ladies than you know what to do with.”

\---

_Ring ring. Ring ring._

_Hi, it’s Emma. Leave your message at the beep._

“Hi there, beautiful. I’m looking for someone with a big heart. And an adventurous spirit. And also, an open mind. A very, _very_ open mind. Would you be into that?”

“Hey Emma, I’m calling about your ad. I’d like to meet you as soon as possible, because I’m honestly hanging by a thread over here and I could really use a sounding board for what I’m going through. See, my ex-girlfriend was a complete sociopath, or maybe psychopath. Which one is worse? She was the worse one of the two. Anyway, my ex and I were living together, and we were talking about adopting a cat, because we already had a dog, but he seemed lonely, which I still think has to do with my ex being emotionally and physically withholding. And then she had the nerve to—”

“I’d like to go out with you, but only if you’re a fellow proponent of the theory that birds are a government plant, because all the real birds died in 1986.”

“Are you interested in hearing about the benefits that hydrocore can add to your life?”

“Hi, Emma. I’m Alyssa. I hope I’m not intruding. I saw your ad, and I really liked the song. I thought, maybe…would you like to meet up some time?”

\---

Alyssa Greene did not go on dates with women very often. In fact, she had never, ever gone a date with a woman before. Until she found herself standing outside of a local café on a Saturday night, with a woman, whom Alyssa had asked to meet for dinner, presumably waiting inside.

And waiting inside she was. When Alyssa pushed open the front door to the restaurant, a blonde woman with large glasses and a larger smile turned to face her. She was wearing the green jacket she said she’d be in. And at that point, it was too late for Alyssa to back out now.

“Alyssa? Hi!” the woman said, reaching a hand towards her.

“Um, hi.”

“Emma. Hi.”

“Right. Hi.” God, too many repetitions of 'hi.' Alyssa wasn’t sure if they were supposed to shake hands or hug. She went in for the hug, realizing as she did so that Emma had definitely intended to shake her hand. Oops.

“Nice to meet you,” Emma said, pulling away awkwardly from their embrace.

“I’m sorry I’m so late!” Alyssa said quickly, taking the seat across from her at the small table.

“You’re not late, don’t worry. And I’m always running behind. You lucked out that I made such good time today!” Emma assured her.

“I hope you didn’t wait long,” Alyssa said.

“I didn’t.”

Alyssa fidgeted in her seat for a moment, before blurting out, “Emma, right?”

Emma looked at her quizzically. “Uh, yes. Is everything okay?”

“Um, gosh, I really should have said this on the phone. And I didn’t. I’m sorry that I didn’t. But you should really know that this isn’t me.”

“What?” Emma said, tilting her head to the side.

“This, um, date. Going out with you tonight. This really isn’t me.”

“It isn’t?”

“Not at all,” Alyssa said, shutting her eyes as a rush of fear washed over her. What was she doing? She wasn’t gay. Alyssa just liked some song lyrics she read in the paper. Just because things hadn’t worked out with past boyfriends didn’t mean she should be wasting this poor girl’s time. “Excuse me. I’m sorry,” Alyssa said, sliding out of her chair and stepping over Emma’s bag. She pushed her way back through the doors of the café, and, once outside, leaned against the wall. Trying to calm her racing heart. Her head felt calmer, at least, now that she was out of Emma’s presence.

“Alyssa, wait.”

Alyssa’s head whipped around to see Emma and her messenger bag standing beside her.

“I don’t want to bother you, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Emma leaned against the wall next to Alyssa, her gaze full of concern.

Alyssa could feel her palms starting to sweat. “I…I’m fine.”

“Can I ask…what part of it isn’t you?” Emma said carefully.

“Oh. Um, all of it.”

“Dating?”

Alyssa winced. “Not just dating, no.”

“So then…” Emma trailed off.

“I haven’t, um, dated many girls. Any girls,” Alyssa finished.

“I see.” Emma eyed her questioningly. “So, uh, why did you—”

“I liked your song,” Alyssa said running a hand through her dark curls. “And I’ve been thinking about being a little less me lately, and that’s why this. But I think maybe it turns out I’m still me.”

“We don’t have to do a whole big…we could go get a drink?”

“Why?” Alyssa asked. “I’m so sorry, that came out rudely. I just meant that I’ve already wasted enough of your time. And I also have this, um, work event tonight.” Alyssa had never felt badly making up a fake commitment before, but this time her chest tightened with guilt.

“For one thing, I’m not convinced you’re actually fine, so I’m not about to leave you here by yourself,” Emma told her. “And for another, I think you could use a drink. I mean, you don’t want to go to your work event so tense, right?”

“Really, I’m okay,” Alyssa insisted.

Emma nodded once. “Okay. Um, it was nice meeting you. However briefly.” She gave a little wave and turned to head back inside, before tripping over her bag and landing with a thump on the ground.

Alyssa tried to stifle a giggle. She couldn’t help it- there was something sweet about Emma’s slightly askew glasses.

“You’re not really laughing at me after I came outside to make sure you’re okay, are you?” Emma asked her with a furrowed brow.

“No…” Alyssa said, as a short laugh burst through. She reached down to give Emma a hand, and as she pulled Emma up, she realized her heart was still racing. But not in such a bad way.

“It must be because I missed my yoga class this morning. I’m not my usual centered self,” Emma told her ruefully as she brushed stray bits of gravel from her jeans.

“You do yoga?” Alyssa asked, interested.

“I’m terrible at it,” Emma said. “But I feel a little more graceful afterwards. And peaceful.”

“I don’t think I could sit still and just breathe for that long,” Alyssa said, considering it. “I’d start to panic.”

“You think?”

“I need to keep moving,” Alyssa told her. “As long as I’m moving, I’m good.”

“What do you do when you’re sleeping?” Emma asked.

Alyssa winced. “I’m a terrible insomniac.”

“I’m sorry,” Emma said. “Since when?”

“Oh. Birth.”

“Well, if you ever change your mind and want to try a class, I’d be happy to—"

“I don’t think so,” Alyssa said quickly. “I mean, thank you, but probably not.”

“You don’t have to decide now,” Emma told her, and she grinned. “It’s kind of nice to let the whole world melt away sometimes.”

Alyssa laughed. “You did not just quote your own song lyrics at me.”

“You told me you liked them!”

Alyssa shook her head, smiling.

Emma looked at her, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Maybe just one drink?”

“Okay. One drink.”

\---

“It must have been pretty serious, huh?” Emma asked, leaning back in her chair.

What was supposed to be one drink had quickly turned into two, then three, and then Alyssa had lost track of the number of drinks and the numbers of hours that had gone by.

Alyssa scoffed. “Serious? Hardly. I told you he proposed, I didn’t tell you how many dates we’d been on.”

“How many?”

“Two.”

Emma tipped her head back and laughed, and Alyssa noticed how Emma’s hazel eyes seemed to change color every time she shifted under the light.

“Well, before premature proposal man, what was wrong with the last guy you went out with?” Emma asked, leaning back in towards Alyssa once she’d caught her breath.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Alyssa said, glancing upwards. She could never put into words why dating hadn’t worked out for her. “It just wasn’t right. He wasn’t funny, you know?”

“Okay, that’s a deal breaker,” Emma conceded. “How about before him?”

“Not smart enough.”

“Hm.”

“That’s always been sort of my big thing, I think. Not smart, or not funny, or not smart _and_ not funny. Or funny in a totally unappealing way. Or they seem smart, and then you realize that they aren’t at all. And that’s funny, but funny in a tragic sort of way.”

Emma gazed at her warily. “So you’ve never found someone who’s smart and funny? The right kind of funny?”

Alyssa shrugged. “I mean, maybe. But then they’re wrong in other ways. Can’t-put-your-finger-on-it sort of ways. The chemistry just isn’t there. At all.”

“No one worth faking the chemistry for?” Emma grinned.

Alyssa laughed. “Seth came the closest. We went out back in college, and he had every issue the other guys had. But he did make some really delicious soup when I was sick.”

“Just in it for the sick care, I see.”

“Isn’t everyone?”

“Not me. I don’t get sick,” Emma said with a wave of her hand.

Alyssa faked a cough.

Emma leaned away exaggeratedly. As she straightened up, she yawned, stretching out one arm. “I hadn’t realized how late it was getting. Should we settle the tab?”

Alyssa knitted her brow. “Are you sure you…do you have to get going?”

“Well, I thought you had a work event?” Emma reminded her.

“I lied.”

Emma looked at her blankly, then started to laugh. “I’ve got to admire your honesty.”

Alyssa grinned weakly. “I’m sorry. I sort of panicked. But do you, um, maybe want to get some dessert?”

Emma met her gaze. “I do know a good bakery.”

\---

As they walked out of the bar, they passed a group of college students. It had been a few years since she was in school, but Alyssa was pretty sure she’d led a very different lifestyle from these kids. At first, she guessed that their loud cheers and long “wooooos!” had to be alcohol related, but a closer look revealed a plastic toy that they passed around was the source of the action. It was, in Alyssa’s opinion, much worse.

“Are they really playing bop-it?” Alyssa asked Emma as they maneuvered around the group.

“Appears that way.”

Alyssa shook her head. “God, they’re crazy.”

Emma shrugged. “No more so than anyone else.”

“I mean, they’re playing a children’s game on the street.”

“They’re just doing their thing,” Emma said breezily, speeding up as they approached a crosswalk.

Alyssa glanced back at the group as she matched Emma’s pace. “They’re not doing anything.”

“That’s not true. They’re twisting it, pulling it, and definitely bopping it,” Emma said back.

“They don’t have any goals,” Alyssa objected.

“I think they have goals,” Emma said.

“What?”

“I don’t know. Friendship, adventure, happiness?”

“Come on,” Alyssa said, rolling her eyes.

“They’re happy.”

“What?”

“Some people play bop-it with their friends, some people bungee jump, some people write songs.” Emma stopped in her tracks, suddenly, looking at Alyssa with such intensity, she almost wanted to take a step back. “What do you do to be happy?”

“Nothing. I’m not.”

Emma started walking again, and Alyssa almost had to sprint to catch up to her. “Wait, okay. I have a job. I’m accomplishing something in the world.”

“That’s great,” Emma said, not looking at her.

“That didn’t sound very enthusiastic,” Alyssa said.

“We’re not talking about what you do in your profession, that’s why,” Emma replied.

“Well, I’m sorry, I just think what they’re doing is selfish,” Alyssa said. She was starting to get frustrated.”

“How is it selfish? Because they’re enjoying themselves?” Emma shot back.

“Yes. No. I still don’t see why that’s somehow better than me working and contributing to the general population.”

“It’s not. I’m just talking about doing something better than just being miserable all the time,” Emma shrugged.

“Miserable?” Alyssa echoed.

“Yes, miserable,” Emma repeated firmly. “They’re happy. And I think that’s valuable. So call it selfish, but there’s some value to that. More value to that than living your life under constant pressure, anyway.”

“Wait a second. Are you saying my life has no value?” Alyssa said, feeling almost personally attacked. This time she stopped in her own tracks to stare at Emma, confused.

“No!” Emma said. Now she was laughing. She finally met Alyssa’s gaze. “Don’t jump to that. I’m just saying that maybe underneath all the neurosis and stress, you have a profound capacity for happiness that you’re not allowing to exist.”

“By playing bop-it?”

“There are things other than bop-it that can make you happy.”

Alyssa looked down at her feet then. “How do you know? You just met me.”

“I just think you can’t possibly know who you are or how you’ll respond to something until you try it,” Emma said.

“I happen to disagree,” Alyssa sniffed. “I happen to think that if you know yourself well, you can gauge how you’re going to react to anything. And I can assure I will never be made happy by…playing bop-it.”

“Or maybe you would.”

“Trust me, I know.”

“You know?” Emma stepped closer towards her, crossing her arms.

“Yes, I know,” Alyssa insisted. She took a small, defiant step forwards.

“Really? You know how you’ll react to everything?” Emma asked. She took another step in.

“Pretty much, yes,” Alyssa started to say.

And then Emma’s lips were pressed against hers, and her arms were wrapped around Alyssa’s waist. Alyssa’s fingers flew to Emma’s shoulders, gripping them tightly, because otherwise she was afraid she might float away, with her head spinning off into the stars of the night sky.

Alyssa could feel Emma’s eyelashes brushing against her face as she drew back. Her hands were gentle as they lingered on her hips. Alyssa let her forehead rest against Emma’s until finally, Emma pulled away.

“I guess you’re right,” Emma said. “You seem to know yourself pretty well.” And with that, she turned and started walking again.

Alyssa stared after Emma, rooted to her spot. When she could breathe, she reached up to run her fingers through her hair. She could still feel the touch Emma’s soft lips imprinted on hers. And then, once more, she started to run after Emma. She wasn’t about to let her get any further away.


	2. Chapter 2

Alyssa couldn’t sleep when she got home that night. She spent the night trying to figure out what her racing heart and sweaty palms meant. Or rather, she knew what it might mean. She just wasn’t sure if she was ready for the answer.

But that didn’t stop her from texting Emma about what a great night she’d had. Or stop her from keeping up her end of the conversation when Emma responded.

On Monday, Kaylee and Shelby stopped at Alyssa’s desk bright and early in the morning.

“Hey, Lys!” Kaylee said, looking sympathetic. “How was your weekend?”

Alyssa didn’t look up from the email she was typing. “Oh, great. How was yours?”.

Kaylee and Shelby glanced at each other. “It was good,” Shelby said carefully. “You seem…chipper.”

“Thank you?”

“Why aren’t you devastated?” Kaylee blurted out.

Alyssa looked up then. “Am I supposed to be?”

“Well, you said last week you were giving up on dating, and then you actually seemed to mean it,” Kaylee said.

“Hm?” Alyssa said.

“Not one lunch conversation about Bumble. Nothing about your mother’s latest disaster of a set-up attempt,” Shelby said pointedly. 

“We didn’t hear from you all weekend! I mean, you didn’t even RSVP to my sushi night!” Kaylee complained.

“Sorry,” Alyssa said. She raised her hands in mock humility. “Won’t happen again.”

“Is that it?” Shelby said, crossing her arms.

“Oh, and I brought in donuts. They’re in the lunchroom if you want one!” Alyssa smiled at her friends and then turned back to her MacBook.

After a few more seconds of watching her type, Shelby finally pulled Kaylee away from their friend’s desk.

“Donuts?” Kaylee whispered as they walked away. “Is that a cry for help?”

Meanwhile, Alyssa discreetly pulled out her phone once Kaylee and Shelby were out of sight. She had a text from Emma to respond to.

“Does dinner tonight still work?” it read.

“Yes,” Alyssa started. She chewed her thumbnail before finishing the text with, “Can we meet at your place?” She closed her eyes and hit send before she could chicken out.

There was a minute before Emma responded during which Alyssa was pretty sure she had stopped breathing, but luckily, before her vision started to blur, a new text popped up on her phone screen.

“Sure,” it said. Along with Emma’s address. Alyssa gulped.

\---

Alyssa had to pick her hand up three times before she finally got the courage to press the bell for Emma’s apartment. Almost immediately, Emma buzzed her in, and Alyssa had the whole elevator ride up to ask herself why she had requested to come over to Emma’s in the first place.

Emma greeted her at the door with a hug, and Alyssa tried to relax as she felt Emma’s arms wrapped around her.

“Hi!” Emma said.

“Hi.”

“Hi. Please, come in,” Emma added, opening the door and motioning for Alyssa to enter.

“Oh, thank you,” Alyssa said, stepping nervously over the threshold and glancing around Emma’s studio apartment. It was small, but home-y, with a comfortable, slightly worn brown couch and walls covered from floor to ceiling with music posters.

“You look great,” Emma offered.

“Oh, no, thank you. You—you do,” Alyssa said, rocking back onto her heels and tucking her hair nervously behind her ears.

“I like your sweater,” Emma said.

“Thanks. I thought maybe it was a little too bright?”

“No, it suits you,” Emma said, offering Alyssa a hopeful smile.

Alyssa couldn’t smile back. Not yet. “Um, can we cut to the chase for a second? Just to get the hard topics out of the way.”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “Uh, hard topics? Is everything okay?”

“Can we sit?” Alyssa asked, making her way over to the sofa. Emma sat on the other end of the couch, eyeing her carefully.

Alyssa sighed. “Everything’s fine.”

“What’s on your mind?” Emma asked, crossing her arms.

“Okay, so, it’s just that whenever I’d thought about being gay in the past, l just, um. Didn’t.”

“Didn’t?’”

“As in, I shut that off. I maybe thought about a girl in high school once, but then…I made myself…think about other things,” Alyssa offered lamely.

“I understand,” Emma said. “And you’ve been…letting yourself think about it?”

Alyssa paused. “Yes? Sort of. But I don’t think I’m labelling anything.”

“You don’t have to,” Emma told her. “There’s no pressure here, okay?”

“I don’t feel pressured,” Alyssa assured her. “That’s why I wanted to come over here, actually. I-I had such a wonderful time with you the other night.”

“Me too,” Emma said, looking relieved.

“I really did,” Alyssa said, and realized that this was the first time she had ever meant that after a date. “And, well, I figured that I needed to stop shutting it off. And I’m still not…not defining myself as anything. I just think I need to be informed.”

“Okay,” Emma said carefully. “So are you asking me for help with that?”

“I actually took the liberty of getting some informational materials on the topic,” Alyssa explained, “I was wondering if I might—”

“Please,” Emma said, looking amused.

Alyssa reached for her purse, rifling through receipts, chapstick, and loose change before finding what she was looking for: a colorful packet she had printed off the internet the night prior.

“Okay, so this one leaflet. ‘Lesbian Sex: Hot, Safe, and Sane.’ Do you know it?”

“Uh, no,” Emma looked like she was trying, and failing, to maintain a serious expression. “But please, share. I’d love to see it.”

“Okay!” Alyssa edged closer to Emma and held the packet out as she started to flip through the pages. “So, I dog-eared a few sections, because there were a few things I was surprised to learn about. They showed some examples. I didn’t really know about, um, some of the higher-tech accoutrement—”

“Lys, wait,” Emma put her hand over Alyssa’s to keep her from turning to the next photo spread. “I think you might be putting the cart before the horse here. I mean, we’ve only gone on one date.”

Alyssa flushed. “I’m sorry. I just- I thought it would probably be better if I did some research. To be prepared.”

“I get it,” Emma said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “But you don’t have to worry, okay? The high-tech stuff, isn’t…it isn’t necessary. And also, again, one date.”

“One date. Right.”

Emma said stood up from the couch. “Almost two. And hopefully outside of this couch. Dinner…we can keep talking about this there?”

“Dinner,” Alyssa agreed. As they walked out of Emma’s door, Alyssa felt Emma reach for her hand. Surprising herself, Alyssa let her take it. While they were still in Emma’s building, anyway.

\---

Emma and Alyssa went on another date. And then one after that. And on their fourth date, Alyssa found herself back at Emma’s apartment, on that same sofa, with Emma sitting beside her. Much closer this time than she had been sitting the first time Alyssa came over.

Emma scooted further down the couch, right next to Alyssa, until their knees touched. “Hi.”

“Hi. Nice place,” Alyssa said, clearing her throat.

“Thanks,” Emma said, stretching her arm out to rest it on the back of the couch. Alyssa wanted to lean back against it. Was that okay? Could she do that? Hesitantly, she moved a little closer to Emma, resting her head on her shoulder. Emma shifted her arm, giving Alyssa a squeeze.

And Alyssa jumped. “Sorry!” she said. “Sorry. You just surprised me.”

“I’m sorry,” Emma said quickly, going to move her arm.

“You don’t have to move,” Alyssa told her. “I mean, I liked your arm there. I’m just a little tense, I guess.”

“Do you want some water?” Emma asked.

“No, thanks,” Alyssa said. Carefully, she settled herself back against Emma’s chest. She could feel Emma’s heartbeat, and she shut her eyes, savoring the feel of it against her back.

“Can I ask you something?” Emma said.

“Sure.”

“Will you be tense if I kiss you?” Emma asked. Alyssa’s own heart thumped in her chest.

“You’ll just have to try it.”

Emma leaned in, and Alyssa closed her eyes. She wasn’t so jumpy after all.

\---

Kissing Emma was like nothing Alyssa had experienced before. Everything she had always hated about kissing guys she went out with- their hands, their tongues, the feeling of their bodies pressed up against hers- she wanted ten times more of it with Emma.

And yet sometimes she’d swear she could hear her mother’s voice in her ear, telling her that what she really needed for a happy future was a doting husband by her side. Maybe because when she spoke to her mother on the phone, Mrs. Greene would say exactly that. And that was without even knowing that she was currently dating a woman.

Alyssa hated to blame her mother for her romantic problems. But it was hard to shake the early years of church and the discussions of the sins of homosexuality she still remembered from Sunday school. Occasionally, when Emma’s hand moved higher on Alyssa’s thigh, or her hand grazed her lower back, Alyssa would freeze. And then Emma would pull back, and apologize profusely, and Alyssa would feel awful. Because more than anything she wanted Emma’s hands on her thighs, and everywhere else, but she couldn’t help the mean little voice in her head saying that it was wrong, all wrong. Emma was so understanding and patient. That was the worst part.

When Alyssa finally told Emma that it had nothing to do with her, that Alyssa actually _liked_ what she was doing, even if it wasn’t coming across that way, so could Emma please keep touching her, Emma pulled back and took off her glasses, concern written all over her face.

“Maybe you should talk to a therapist,” Emma suggested.

“Oh, I could never do that,” Alyssa said.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s private.”

\---

Back at the gallery, Emma was reorganizing the books on Barry’s desk, trying to keep her mind occupied.

“Don’t you dare touch my Sondheim biographies,” he said, coming up behind her to push her away from the bookcase. “What is with you today? You know better than to mess with my signed copies!”

“I don’t know,” Emma sighed. She sank into Barry’s chair, drumming her fingers on his desk as she tried to put her thoughts into words. “I just don’t know if it’s working out.”

“What’s not working out?” Barry said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall.

“This girl I’ve been seeing. The one from the ad.”

“I thought you said you really liked her?” Barry said.

“I do. It’s just…not working out.” Emma sighed.

“Why not?”

“Internalized homophobia?” Emma offered.

“Maybe she’s just straight. Or not that into it,” Dee Dee called from her own desk.

“You shut up,” Barry yelled back.

“She’s neurotic. And nervous. And I like her, but I’m not sure I’m here for someone’s high school coming out story at 26,” Emma said in a rush.

“We can’t all be lucky enough to come out at 15,” Barry pointed out.

“We can’t all be lucky enough to get kicked out by our parents either,” Emma snapped back.

“Touché,” Barry said. He paused for moment. “Listen, kid, don’t end things just because she’s a little behind your timeline.”

“I just don’t know if I can handle it if I’m the reason…if it’s because of me that her life is ruined,” Emma said hesitantly.

“So dramatic. This woman is an adult. She doesn’t live at home, so she’s already in the clear,” Barry told her.

Emma sighed. “I know, I know. But do I really want another mother cursing me for ‘corrupting her daughter?’”

“Well, that I understand,” Barry said. “Then enough is enough. On to the next. Onwards and upwards!”

“Right,” Emma said glumly, her face falling.

 _Ring ring_. Emma grabbed for her phone. “Hello? Oh, hi!” Emma straightened up, a grin spreading across her face. “How are you? Yeah—no, that’s fine…eight o’clock is perfect.”

Barry waved Dee Dee over as he pointed exaggeratedly at their young charge. “Are you listening to this?” he mouthed.

“Okay, I’ll see you there. Okay. Bye!” Emma hung up, clutching the phone to her chest. She tried to control her overwhelming urge to break into song.

Dee Dee stared at her. “Is that your reaction just from a phone call with this girl?”

“Yes?” Emma said.

“Are you 12?” Barry asked, raising an eyebrow.

\---

It took a few more occasions of kissing, and _only_ kissing, for Alyssa to get that voice in her head to shut up long enough to let Emma’s hands get a little higher, and then a little lower, and for Alyssa’s own hands to wander too.

They lay sprawled on Emma’s carpet one afternoon. Things had started on the couch and with one roll, they were on the ground. They didn’t bother moving; they were otherwise occupied. “I figure if we keep going like this, we’ll get there—” Alyssa said between kisses.

“There?” Emma questioned.

“Sex. In like two weeks or so,” Alyssa said frankly, as Emma kissed her neck.

Emma pulled away to laugh. “Sure. There’s no real rush.” She leaned in and sucked lightly on Alyssa’s collar bone, making her groan.

“How about ten days?”

Emma coughed. “Ten days is better.”

\---

Alyssa got in early to work the next morning and immediately headed to community kitchen for a cup of tea. The kitchen was dark and quiet, and Alyssa flipped half the lights on, appreciating a bit of the morning obscurity. She always loved the silence of the early hours, when she had the place to herself and could make her tea in peace. She hummed to herself as she grabbed a mug. Emma had sent her a great Spotify playlist and one of the songs would not get out of her head.

“Morning,” Shelby said from Alyssa’s side, reaching behind her to grab a Splenda packet. Alyssa nearly screamed.

“You’re a little jumpy today,” Shelby commented, opening the packet and dumping it into her coffee.

“I’m not,” Alyssa said quickly. She fidgeted with her cup.

Shelby gave her a curious look. “You’re hiding something.”

Alyssa forced a chuckle. “No, no.”

Shelby snapped her fingers and poked Alyssa on the shoulder, looking excited. “I’ve got it. You have a hot date.”

“No,” Alyssa repeated.

“Yeah. Who’s the guy?” Shelby said, crossing her arms.

Alyssa shook her head, relief coursing through her, and walked back towards the hallway. “There is no guy.”

“Oh, come on. You’re a terrible liar,” Shelby called after her.

“Trust me,” Alyssa yelled over her shoulder. She smirked as she headed to her desk. “There is no guy.”

\---

“Any plans for the night?” Mrs. Greene asked her daughter on the phone that evening. Alyssa was still at the office, watching as one by one, her co-workers left for the day. It was getting late, but her office was closer to the restaurant she and Emma had reservations at that night. Better to get some work done than waste time stopping at home.

“I’m getting dinner with Emma,” Alyssa told her mother.

“Emma?” Mrs. Greene said questioningly.

“New friend. I told you about her last week, remember?”

“Right, right. The artist,” Mrs. Greene said.

“No, she works at a gallery,” Alyssa reminded her.

“Close enough.”

“I really should be going, Mom. Don’t want to keep a friend waiting,” Alyssa said, twirling the phone cord around her finger as she glanced at her watch. She still had nearly a half hour before the reservation, but Mrs. Greene didn’t have to know that.

“Well, give her my best! Maybe find out if she has any single friends to set you up with,” Mrs. Greene said.

“I will,” Alyssa said flatly.

“I love you, honey,” Mrs. Greene said, her voice softening.

Alyssa sighed. “Love you too, Mom.” She hung up.

A minute later, her phone rang again, and Alyssa nervously checked to see if it was her mother calling back. Instead, she smiled at seeing Emma’s name on the caller ID.

“You know I’ll see you at the restaurant in twenty minutes, right?” Alyssa said as she answered.

“Couldn’t wait that long to hear your voice,” Emma said back, and Alyssa’s cheeks flushed.

“Flatterer.”

“So where are you now?” Emma asked.

“Still at the office. It’s closer than my apartment,” Alyssa said. “And we’ve established that I’m a workaholic.”

“Can I come visit? I’d love to see your home away from home,” Emma said.

Alyssa glanced around the office. It felt strange to bring someone she was dating, especially the _woman_ she was dating, into her workplace. But it was empty. No one was around to ask any difficult questions.

“Okay,” Alyssa concluded.

“Oh, good. I’m in your lobby,” Emma told her.

Alyssa snorted. “Were you planning on breaking in if I didn’t say you could come up?”

“Hey, you were right. It is on the way to the restaurant,” Emma said. Alyssa could hear her smiling through the phone.

“It’s a little bit stalker-ish.”

“Sorry. I should probably toss the flowers I got for you then, right?”

“Don’t you dare. I’ll come get you.”

Alyssa hurried down the stairs to find Emma waiting in a chair in the lobby, flipping through one of the old Us Weekly copies sitting on the coffee table. A small vase of tulips sat in front of her.

“Having fun?” she asked, tapping Emma on the shoulder.

“Always,” Emma grinned and looked up at her questioningly, lips poised as if she was waiting fo a kiss.

Alyssa glanced at lobby windows. “Um…”

Emma stood up from the couch, reaching out to give her hand a squeeze. “It’s fine. Ready to show me your desk?”

“You’re going to be very disappointed,” Alyssa warned, leading her towards the elevator. She felt comfortable enough to hold Emma’s hand as they rode up and made it to her floor. They stepped out, Emma holding her hand against the doors to let her through first.

“Here’s where the magic happens.” Alyssa motioned dramatically to her desk.

“You say that so sarcastically, as if there’s not genuinely something magical about having a comfortable desk chair,” Emma said, plunking down into it the and swinging Alyssa’s hand lightly. She winced, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Oof, should have let me warn you. Who said it was comfortable?” Alyssa sighed, smoothing down the top of Emma’s hair affectionately.

“Alyssa?”

It was Kaylee. “Shit,” Alyssa whispered, dropping Emma’s hand and trying to look casual.

Kaylee was making her way over from the staircase, squinting at the pair through the darkness of the office in the evening. “How’s it going?” she asked, glancing at Emma and offering her a perfunctory smile.

“Fine, you?” Emma stood up from Alyssa’s chair, tucking it carefully under the desk.

“I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Kaylee. I work with Alyssa,” she said, nudging the woman in question on the arm. Alyssa smiled weakly.

“Emma Nolan. We’re just—”

“Friends from the gym,” Alyssa finished.

“Oh,” Kaylee said. “Lys, what are you doing at work for so long?”

“We’re getting a late dinner,” Alyssa said. Nothing suspicious about getting a meal with a friend, right? “What are _you_ doing here?”

“Forgot my sweater,” Kaylee said, shrugging. “But don’t tell me you brought a guest to eat dinner in our conference room?”

“Emma just wanted to see my office on the way over.”

“Exciting, right?” said Kaylee with a laugh.

“Oh, it’s fun to see a regular office in action,” Emma said. “I work in an art gallery- I could use a little check into normalcy now and then.”

“Ooh, a gallery?” Kaylee looked interested. “What’s that like?”

“It’s definitely interesting. My bosses opened the place in—”

“We’d better get going. Dinner reservation and all,” Alyssa interrupted, glancing at Emma with a hint of panic. She was glad that Kaylee wasn’t asking anything more personal than about Emma’s job, or noticed the new bouquet of flowers on Alyssa’s desk, but there was a high risk of everything getting out the longer they stayed and talked. And Alyssa was _not_ prepared for that.

“Yeah, probably,” Emma said, her smile fading. “It was nice meeting you, Kaylee.”

“Yeah, you too,” Kaylee said. She gave a little wave as she sauntered towards her own desk.

“Close one,” Alyssa giggled nervously. “Come on, let’s go.”

Emma gave her a strange look. “All right. Lead the way.”

\---

At the restaurant that night, over a hot bowl of sweet-and-sour soup, Alyssa let herself relax and just enjoy as Emma regaled her with stories of the gallery owners, their artists-in-residence, and their next show. After the women waived his offer of a dessert menu, their waiter placed the check down in front of them. There were two fortune cookies sitting innocently on top. Alyssa poked at them gingerly.

“I love fortune cookies,” Emma said, handing one to Alyssa and snapping her own cookie in half. “I wish every message in life came in a snack.

“They don’t even have real fortunes,” Alyssa objected.

“Come on, live a little,” Emma said, coaxing her.

Alyssa sighed. “Why bother? They never say, ‘you will gain great wisdom through some life-altering event.’ They say…I don’t know. Not fortunes. What does yours say?”

“Oh, so you want to know mine, still? ‘Home is where the heart lies.’” Emma read.

“Okay, you got an adage,” Alyssa said triumphantly.

“Well, so what? I like adages.”

“The whole notion of the fortune cookie is a sham,” Alyssa insisted. Emma was rolling her eyes, but she was smiling. “I mean, when does anyone actually get a fortune? I’d like to know.”

“What’s a fortune, anyway?” Emma said thoughtfully, crunching on her cookie.

“Not what comes in these cookies. False advertising,” Alyssa said, eating her own and crumpling up her fortune without bothering to read it.

“I mean, what do you think about—"

“Excuse me,” a voice came from above them. Alyssa looked up to see two guys standing next to their table with self-satisfied smirks. “Sorry to interrupt this big debate over here, but me and my friends over at the bar have a little pool going.”

“Basically, we want to determine which one of you is more beautiful,” his friend added.

“Excuse me—” Alyssa started to say.

“Who won?” Emma asked, leaning in exaggeratedly and batting her eyelashes ever so slightly. Alyssa stared at her, but she was smiling vapidly at the men in front of them.

“You see, that’s the thing. Marcus and I are sitting over there scratching our heads, because it’s close, you know?” he continued.

“Right,” Emma agreed. “That is concerning.” She pushed up the sleeves of her red flannel and rubbed her chin, looking lost in thought.

“We thought we’d come over here and buy you some drinks; do some research,” Marcus offered.

“I think we’re fine, thanks,” Alyssa said. But she was trying to keep from laughing.

“No, no; please, join us! We would _love_ that,” Emma insisted, nodding towards the empty chairs at their table. Immediately, both men crowded in.

“We were just trying to settle an argument, too,” Emma continued.

“Really? About what?” Not Marcus asked.

“Well…no, it’s kind of weird,” Emma sighed.

“Come on, tell us,” Not Marcus said, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay. We were just wondering whether a woman could who’s only ever dated men could ever be sexually attracted to a woman,” Emma said, stretching an arm over the back of her chair. Alyssa choked on her drink. “What do you think?” Emma asked, looking at the men with great interest. “Do you think she could?”

“Definitely,” Marcus blurted. “She definitely could.”

“If she couldn’t, she should,” Not Marcus agreed, nodding profusely.

“God, what is that about?” Emma said. “That male obsession with lesbian sex. I don’t get it.” She crossed her legs, casually rolling one doc marten-encased ankle around.

Alyssa had been sitting with her mouth slightly agape, watching the exchange, but she held her palm up at that. “You don’t have to answer that—” she started.

“Oh, come on. It’s just…sexy, right?” Marcus interrupted, looking to his friend for confirmation.

Not Marcus was still nodding. “Yeah. Yeah.”

“It’s kind of hard to describe. I mean, a woman alone is sexy, but two women together. It’s like—it’s like—”

“Double sexy.”

“Right.”

Alyssa leaned onto the table, resting her hand on her chin. She broke into a smile. “Double sexy. Wow.”

Emma nodded, looking deep in thought. “Yeah, uh-huh.”

“That’s nicely put,” Alyssa continued.

“But tell us, exactly— _exactly_ what is it about two women together…that you find so exciting?” Emma said.

“Oh, come on. You know, their whole thing. Like, the way they touch.” Marcus said.

“Really?” Emma’s eyes were wide. “How do they touch?” Beneath the tablecloth, her hand brushed Alyssa’s thigh.

Alyssa swallowed hard, and, feeling bold, reached for Emma’s hand and placed her open palm on her thigh.

“You know, when they…” Not Marcus looked mystified for a moment. “Well, a woman is soft, so when they touch each other, it’s, like, they’re soft. Together.” he finished finally.

“Women really know how to touch,” Marcus confirmed.

“But what would they do, I wonder?” Alyssa said, her mind racing as Emma’s hand moved up her thigh. Alyssa tried to keep her gaze focused on the flame of the candle sitting on their small table. She swallowed hard as Emma’s fingers trailed up her thigh.

“Who cares what they’d do?” Not Marcus said with a wave of his hand. “Just two women’s bodies together is hot. Their hips, their legs…I mean, it’s all good.”

“And obviously, two women together,” Marcus looked at his friend for confirmation, “would know how to—they know how everything works in there.”

“Like how what works?” Emma asked innocently. Her hand slid an extra half inch up, and Alyssa couldn’t stop herself from letting out a slight gasp.

“Lys, what’s the matter?” Emma asked with a voice full of concern. She removed her hand, much to Alyssa’s relief, but also to her _significant_ chagrin.

“Nothing. Um, nothing,” Alyssa said, trying to calm her racing heart. “It’s just that I have, um, a slight leg cramp.”

“Oh, you really should get that looked at,” Emma said, her hazel eyes gazing right at Alyssa.

“Yeah, thank you for the concern,” Alyssa said, breaking into a grin. She felt the sudden, immediate need to get out of the restaurant.

“You know what, guys? I think we really, really have to get going,” Emma said, obviously feeling the same way. She stood, pulling Alyssa up beside her.

“Oh, really?” Marcus said, looking surprised.

“Can’t we get you a drink or something?” Not Marcus asked, leaning across the table hopefully.

“No, no. I’m a little worried about Alyssa’s leg,” Emma sighed. “I really think I should get her into bed.”

“Mm-hm,” Alyssa agreed, pulling Emma towards the restaurant’s exit.

“Nice meeting you!” Emma called over her shoulder.

“That’s the thing about girls,” Marcus said to his friend as he waved at the two women. “They really know how to take care of each other.”

In the alley outside the restaurant, Alyssa pushed Emma against the brick wall and kissed her, running her hands through Emma’s soft hair and bumping her nose against her glasses. Emma slid her arms around Alyssa’s back, digging in her fingernails and groaning as Alyssa kissed her neck.

“Do you…do you want to, maybe, go back to—” Alyssa started.

And then Emma’s phone rang. With a ringtone to the tune of ‘Pop goes the weasel.’

“ _Fuck_ ,” Emma hissed, pulling her phone out and jabbing at the screen. “That’s my emergency ringtone for my boss.”

“Were you supposed to speak to him?” Alyssa said, trying to catch her breath. She smoothed down the top of her hair as she stared at Emma expectantly.

“No,” Emma sighed, frustrated. She held the phone up to her ear. “ _What_ , Barry? No, now is _not_ a good time. Can it wait until—no. No, I understand. Yeah. Yeah. Let me call you right back.” Emma pressed at the screen, scowling.

“Em, I’ll just get going,” Alyssa said quickly. She didn’t want to get between Emma and whatever work emergency had just happened.

“No, wait. You don’t need to do that,” Emma said hastily.

“No, I should. It’s really late,” Alyssa said back, even hastier.

“Is this because…” Emma sighed. “Because we were maybe…getting somewhere?”

Alyssa winced. “No. Maybe. What if we couldn’t get that back? And—and you have needs! I get that. But you should deal with the work thing. You should—”

“Alyssa, stop,” Emma said firmly. “I want you to stay. We don’t have to do anything. I’m just going to get rid of Barry. Let me make a quick call.”

“What if you leave him hanging, and then I chicken out? And then I’ve ruined your night twice over?”

“It doesn’t matter to me if—”

“Let’s just meet tomorrow, okay?” Alyssa said. She gave Emma a quick kiss. “Thanks for tonight, Emma. Really.”

Emma watched as Alyssa walked off. She rubbed the back of her neck, and then called Barry.

“Finally,” he sneered, picking up on the first ring.

Emma just sneezed.


	3. Chapter 3

“Oh, Em,” Alyssa said when she entered Emma’s apartment the next morning. Emma’s sneeze at Barry the night before was less of an insulting verbal assault and more of an indication that she was coming down with a terrible cold. Alyssa’s good night text had been met with silence. Following up in the morning confirmed that Emma was barely able to lift her hand enough to type out, “Sorry. Home sick.” Immediately, Alyssa headed over to Emma’s apartment with a bag full of food, cold medicine, and her comfiest pillow.

“You don’t get sick, huh?”

“This is humiliating enough without you making fun of me,” Emma grumbled. Her words fell into a coughing fit.

“Shh,” Alyssa murmured, smoothing her hand over Emma’s forehead. “It’s best not to talk.”

“Okay, you can talk more for a change,” Emma offered with a small, weak grin.

“Ha, very funny,” Alyssa said, moving away from Emma’s bedside and walking towards the kitchen. “You’re getting funny! That must mean you’re feeling better.”

“Where are you going?” Emma croaked.

“Shh.”

Once in the kitchen, Alyssa got to work, buttering toast, making tea, microwaving oatmeal, and heating up the soup on Emma’s stovetop. She laid everything out on a tray, adding a napkin, silverware, and, as an afterthought, a drawing of a giraffe she did on a post-it note. Carefully, she picked up the tray and made her way back over towards Emma’s bedside.

“You’re back!” Emma said, a slight lift in her voice. “Wait, what’s all this?”

“Options,” Alyssa said, sliding the tray over the covers and sitting down beside her. “I didn’t know what you might like.”

“And the giraffe?” Emma questioned, looking at the sticky note.

Alyssa shrugged. “I don’t know. The tray felt bare.”

Emma laughed and glanced back down at the four different food options and the accompanying cup of tea. She shook her head in amazement, and then gazed at Alyssa with such adoration that she had to look away. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. Really, thank you.” Emma took a tentative spoonful of soup, and her eyebrows shot up. “Oh my god. That’s the best thing ever.”

“I know,” Alyssa said. “Told you that on our first date.”

Emma raised an eyebrow.

“Seth’s soup, remember? Best thing for when you’re under the weather.”

Emma let out a short laugh before taking another slow sip. “You’ll have to give me the recipe.”

“But you don’t need it,” Alyssa said, shooting her a satisfied grin. “You don’t get sick."

\---

Seth’s soup must have done the trick. Two days later, Emma was back at work in tip-top shape. At the end of the day, she waved good-bye to Barry and Dee Dee, who were arguing about a new painting’s price tag, and made a quick phone call as she headed over to Alyssa’s office.

“A queen-size bed is perfect,” she said into the phone as she drove. “No, nothing else. Oh, actually, wait. I need a lock and a ‘Do not disturb’ sign. That’s it.”

Back at her own office, Alyssa shut her computer down for the day and started to zip up her purse.

“Hey, Alyssa, can I talk to you for a second?” she heard. Kaylee was stopped in front of her computer monitor.

“I’m really late. Could we talk on Monday?” Alyssa asked, picking her bag up and looking pleadingly towards the staircase.

“Big plans?” Kaylee asked.

“No. Just, um, an appointment.”

“Oh, okay,” Kaylee said, waving her on. “It can wait.”

Alyssa smiled at her friend. “Thanks. Have a good weekend!” She made her way towards the exit and headed down the stairs.

“You too!” Kaylee called aloud. “She is _so_ seeing somebody,” she texted Shelby.

Outside her building, Alyssa craned her neck, looking for Emma. She smiled as her car pulled up, waving shyly and jogging over to the car. “Hi, Em!”

Emma unlocked the passenger door and waved her in. “Hey!” She paused, not moving. Emma was looking straight ahead as she kept the car parked.

“Everything okay?” Alyssa asked, reaching over to touch her hand.

“Yes. I, uh. I sort of have a surprise,” Emma confessed.

“What is it?”

“I got a hotel room.”

Alyssa stared at her, her cheeks flushing. “Oh. Right. It’s day ten.”

Emma peeked at her out of the corner of her eyes. “It was a stupid idea. We really don’t have to—”

Alyssa leaned in and kissed her cheek. “How long will it take if you drive just _slightly_ above the speed limit?”

Emma laughed, squeezing her hand. “I’ll step on it.” Before she could move her car out of ‘park,’ Alyssa’s phone rang.

“Are you kidding me?” Alyssa groaned. “Are we jinxed?”

“Probably,” Emma said. “Just answer it. We have time.”

Alyssa poked at her phone screen without bothering to check who was calling, “Hello?”

“Sweetheart!” Alyssa jumped in her seat. It was her mom. “Honey, great news. You’re coming home this weekend!”

“No,” Alyssa said instantly. “I mean, what? What do you mean I’m coming home?” Emma tapped her on the arm, looking alarmed, and Alyssa shook her head. “Hold on,” she mouthed.

“The Boomers are coming over for dinner! Including Nick and Jess. From high school? Remember? It’s been far too long. I thought you’d like to catch up, so I bought you a bus ticket,” Mrs. Greene said.

“Mom, you can’t just spring that on me last minute,” Alyssa said. “Besides, my new friend Emma—you know, the one I told you about? She got us these, um, last-minute house seats to Cabaret, and you know I’ve been dying to see that show, so maybe I’ll just come up in the—”

“No, no. You’re coming tonight. I will buy you Cabaret tickets for next week,” Mrs. Greene said firmly.

“Mom, that’s impossible. The run’s sold out,” Alyssa insisted.

“What is she saying?” Emma whispered.

“Is your friend right there?” Mrs. Greene asked, sounding suspicious. “Put her on.”

“No. Mom—no, no—”

“Alyssa.”

“What?”

“Just for a minute, sweetheart,” Mrs. Greene maintained.

“What’s going on?” Emma mumbled.

“She wants to talk to you,” Alyssa said. “Give me a second to—”

“Okay.” Emma held her hand out.

Alyssa stared at her. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, give it over,” Emma confirmed, wiggling her fingers.

Alyssa sighed and passed her phone over to Emma, who held it up to her ear. Despite her bravado of moments before, she looked a little nervous. “Hello?”

“Emma, darling, it’s so wonderful to finally talk to you,” Mrs. Greene’s voice came through.

“Yes, hi—” Emma began.

“I just happen to have a friend, who has a neighbor, who has a son that was a swing in the production. And I know he can get you the most _fantastic_ seats for Cabaret next week, which would be my pleasure.”

“Oh, that’s not—”

“Not to mention the lead, who is apparently a very big deal, is out all this week. Apparently, he has these unfortunate soft nodules on his vocal cords. Don’t you think it would be a shame for you to go tonight, while this phenomenal lead is out?”

“Uh, I guess so, but—"

“You’re going to join us for dinner with the Boomers, dear. I’m looking forward to finally meeting you! I’m setting a place for you at this table as we speak. Boomer Sr. will pick you both up at the station in an hour. Okay?”

“Uh. Okay. Thanks?” Emma said. She pressed ‘end’ on the call and let her hand drop loosely to her side.

“What happened?” Alyssa asked, staring at her in confusion.

“We’re having dinner at your mother’s house. With the Boomers.” Emma said finally, after a long, long pause.

“ _Shit_.”

\---

Boomer Sr. picked Emma and Alyssa up at the train station. 15 minutes of uncomfortable silence later, they arrived at the Greene house to crushing hugs from Mrs. Greene. Emma was surprised to receive one of her own.

“Your mother’s a lot friendlier than you warned me,” she whispered to Alyssa when Mrs. Greene finally released her.

“Just wait,” Alyssa scoffed.

“Come in, come in! Dinner is ready!” Mrs. Greene trilled, clapping her hands. “Now, I’ve made my famous pot roast and the most delicious green bean casserole, so I hope you’ve all brought your appetites.”

“I know I have!” Boomer Sr. said, rubbing his palms together.

Alyssa flashed Emma a pained smile. “Still time to back out.”

“I would never,” Emma said, pressing her palm to her chest in mock sincerity. “I love green bean casserole.”

The group followed Mrs. Greene into the dining room, where the meal sat invitingly on the table, each place set perfectly with forks and knives from Mrs. Greene’s collection of family silver.

“Jess, darling, have a seat,” Mrs. Greene said, directing her to a chair. “Maria, Boomer Sr., if you would sit here.” She directed the Boomer parents to the left side of the table. “Emma, right there. Oh, and Alyssa?”

Alyssa looked at her mother nervously.

“Would you sit here, please, between Nick and me?”

“Um, okay, Mom,” Alyssa said, making her way over to her assigned seat. It was like being back in third grade. Who was she kidding? It was like being back in any age where she lived in her mother’s house.

“It is so nice to have old friends back together,” Mrs. Greene said. “Nick, I don’t think you and Alyssa have seen each other since your high school graduation! It’s just lovely that you could make it.”

“Lovely to be here,” Nick said cheerfully.

“And of course, Emma. Alyssa has told us so much about you.”

“Oh,” Emma said, looking surprised. “That’s nice to hear.”

“It’s wonderful that you could make it,” Mrs. Greene continued. “It does me such good to have family and friends at this table. Especially my beautiful, _single_ daughter, Alyssa—”

“Mother!” Alyssa hissed.

“Who has a highly impressive career—”

“I’m a copywriter.”

“Which I’m continuously impressed by! And of course, isn’t she gorgeous? Just look at that face, Nick,” Mrs. Greene continued.

Nick looked up from his plate, his mouth overflowing with green beans. “Huh? Oh, yeah, she sure is, Mrs. Greene.” He gave Alyssa an awkward thumbs up. Alyssa pretended not to notice.

“So Emma, Alyssa tells us you own an art gallery?” Mrs. Greene offered, clearly realizing that it was time to change directions.

Emma chuckled. “Oh, Alyssa exaggerates. I’m the assistant director at the Broadway Art Gallery.”

“What kind of work do you show there?” Mrs. Greene pressed.

“Contemporary work, mostly. A lot of up-and-coming artists,” Emma replied.

“How nice. And Nick, you’re working as the vice president of software development for…what was it again?”

“Dell. So hey, if you need a great deal on a new computer, I’m the guy to see!” Nick said, giving Alyssa a hopeful look.

“Oh, I’m fine with my current one, thanks,” Alyssa responded. “Anyway, all these new computers. I just feel like they’re numbing and obscuring our humanity. You know?”

“Angel,” Mrs. Greene said tightly. “Could you help me in the kitchen, please?”

Alyssa held back a sigh. “Sure, Mom.” She stood up, following her mother out of the dining room.

Once safely out of the earshot of the Boomer family, Veronica Greene spun around to face her daughter.

“He’s bright; he’s sweet; he’s very handsome. And more than that, he’s a family friend! Be nice,” Mrs. Greene snapped.

“I don’t want to be nice,” Alyssa said back. She knew she sounded like she was in grade school, but she didn’t care. She was sick of her mother’s set-ups. Sick of her mother thinking there was something about her that needed to be fixed. And sick of talking to Nick Boomer, who was as unappealing to her as he had been in high school. “For the record, all of your set-ups have been disastrous.”

“Disastrous? How was I supposed to know that the nice boy from my church was in a cult?”

“Pyramid schemes are always cults!”

“He had passion!”

“Can I help with anything?” came Emma’s voice, interrupting their argument as she entered the kitchen.

“Yes,” Mrs. Greene snapped. “You can make my daughter a little less stubborn. And a lot less picky!”

“Tall order,” Emma said, glancing wryly at Alyssa.

“Thanks,” Alyssa mumbled, elbowing her.

“Let me ask you something, Emma. Isn’t Nick gorgeous?” Mrs. Greene said, tapping her fingers on the counter expectantly.

“Oh, yeah. He’s a handsome guy, Alyssa.” Emma told her seriously.

“Wouldn’t he make a good match?” Mrs. Green continued.

“I think it’s a very good match,” Emma agreed. “And you know what? I think Alyssa really likes him.”

“Yes, clearly,” Alyssa snorted. “I’m smitten.”

“Great. It’s not happening,” Mrs. Greene said crossly.

“No, it’s not happening, Mom,” Alyssa said back. She marched out of the kitchen, shutting the door not-so-gently behind her.

Mrs. Greene looked critically at Emma. “What about you, dear? Maybe you and Nick could—”

“Oh, he’s great,” Emma said quickly. “But my plate’s a little full right now.”

“Fair enough. I just wish that Alyssa would meet somebody. It’s been a long time since she’s met anybody worthwhile.” Mrs. Greene leaned in conspiringly towards Emma. “Is she dating at all?

“I think so,” Emma said carefully. “You know, now and again.”

“But no one special?” Mrs. Greene pressed.

“You know, I just don’t know,” Emma said.

“Well, please, do let me know if you hear anything. Sometimes Alyssa is so secretive with me. Would you do that for me?” Mrs. Greene asked, looking pleadingly at Emma.

“You know, I’m sure…if it’s someone really special, she’ll tell you,” Emma replied. Mrs. Greene nodded, giving Emma’s should a squeeze. Emma tried to smile back.

A sudden clap of thunder made the two jump, and curiously, Emma followed Mrs. Greene back to the dining room, where the rest of the group was making awkward small talk.

“Did you hear that?” Maria said, glancing out the window. “Thunderstorm. Started out of nowhere.”

Mrs. Greene surveyed the sudden onslaught of torrential rain and watched a flash of lightning pass through the sky. “I’ve seen enough. The storm is terrible. Everyone can stay here for the night.”

“Mom,” Alyssa said. “That’s a very nice offer, but I think Emma and I really should get back to the city.”

“Nonsense. We have warm beds. Now, girls, you follow me upstairs and help me get our extra pillows.” She marched towards the staircase, and, like a couple of lost ducklings, Alyssa and Emma obediently followed her.

“Let’s see. We’ll put Maria and Boomer Sr. in the downstairs guest room,” Mrs. Greene said, pulling linens and pillows out of the hallway closet as she spoke. “Jess can take the pull-out couch in the living room. Nick can have the basement couch, and hm…” she paused then. “We’re out of space. Alyssa, you and Emma will have to sleep in your old room.”

Alyssa coughed. “Um, what?”

\---

Ready for bed that night, Alyssa fidgeted in a nightgown from high school, while Emma sat beside her on her cramped twin in an old pair of sweatpants.

“I hope you girls don’t mind sharing,” Mrs. Greene said, furrowing her brow as she surveyed the small room.

“No problem. We’ll be okay. Right, Lys?” Emma said sweetly, looking at Alyssa for confirmation.

“Yes. Um, yeah. We’ll be fine, Mom,” Alyssa managed.

“Are you sure that bed is big enough?” Mrs. Greene said, looking doubtful.

“I think we’ll just fit,” Emma said, gazing at it thoughtfully. “Good night!”

“Good night,” Mrs. Greene said, shutting the door behind her.

And Alyssa started to laugh.

“Stop it,” Emma whispered, snickering herself.

“You stop it,” Alyssa giggled. She pulled up the covers on her bed and slid underneath, trying to get comfortable as Emma laid down beside her. They were both quiet.

“This is weird,” Emma said finally.

“After a period of such normalcy,” Alyssa shot back. They both started to laugh again.

“Shh,” Alyssa cautioned. “We’ve got to be quiet. Don’t want to disturb the Boomers.”

“Jesus Christ. I feel like we’re going to be grounded or something,” Emma said, stretching her arms behind her head. Alyssa glanced over, looking at Emma’s smudged glasses and rumpled t-shirt with affection. She leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. And then she rolled over a bit more and leaned over Emma, her dark curls draping over them like a curtain. She paused.

Emma looked up at her, grinning. “Alyssa, what are you—”

“It’s day ten.”

Emma reached over then, to turn off the lamp on Alyssa’s nightstand. And then turned back to Alyssa, pressing a gentle, and then not so gentle kiss to her lips. After all, it was day ten.

\---

At one o’clock in the morning, Emma lay sound asleep, her head tucked against Alyssa’s shoulder. Alyssa was still trying to catch her breath. She glanced at Emma, whose long lashes were curled against her cheeks and pink lips held a soft smile.

Alyssa was the happiest, she thought, that she had ever been. Maybe would ever be. And she was also the most scared.


	4. Chapter 4

When Alyssa returned to the office after the weekend away, she wondered if she looked any different. She felt different. In the best of ways.

Maybe she really did look different. “You’re going to stop and tell me right now what’s going on with you,” Shelby said when she corned Alyssa outside the bathroom. “You don’t hang out with us outside of work; you don’t respond to texts in our group chat. Are you going to tell me about the guy you’re secretly dating or is our friendship over?”

Alyssa shook her head, her dark curls bouncing. “Oh, Shelb, no. I—"

“Okay, our friendship is over,” Shelby said, turning to head back down the hallway.

“No, no, no. I, um—” Alyssa sighed. “Okay, yes, I’ve been seeing someone,” she whispered.

“Duh.”

“I just don’t want to jinx it by talking about it, you know?” Alyssa continued.

“Just jinx it,” Shelby said. “When do we get to meet him? How about brunch on Sunday?”

Alyssa winced. “The thing is, we’re sort of laying low this weekend. Staying in. He and I. But, um, maybe next week.”

“Not maybe. Definitely,” Shelby pushed.

“Okay,” Alyssa said, giving her a nervous smile. “Definitely.” Just behind Shelby, Alyssa could see Kaylee approaching, waving a card above her head eagerly.

“Alyssa! I got your Christmas party invitation!” Kaylee said, looking excited.

“Oh, forgot about that,” Shelby said. “Me too.”

“They’re beautiful, right?” Alyssa said. “Don’t tell me if you think otherwise; Mom stressed about those for ages.”

“They are,” Kaylee assured her. “Can I RSVP in person? This is me RSVP-ing in person.”

“Better make it official and fill out the response card. Don’t want Alyssa’s mom to have a coronary,” Shelby said, poking her. And Alyssa had to agree.

“God, I’ve been looking forward to this party since last year,” Shelby said. “You two always throw the best holiday party.”

“My mother does, really,” Alyssa said. “I just show up and open the door.”

“Well, either way, it’s the event of the season!” Kaylee chirped. “Everyone who’s anyone is there!”

“Yes, with us and every person the Greenes have ever crossed paths with. Real exclusive,” Shelby snorted.

“Trust me, I barely know most of the other guests. But whatever makes my mother happy,” Alyssa sighed.

\---

“Why can’t you just be happy for me?” Emma asked Barry as they combed through the gallery’s newest shipment of artwork. She paused to wipe her palms off, glaring at him over her glasses.

“Because she’s an affront to gay people everywhere, and I am a gay people,” Barry said, grabbing a painting off the top of the stack and tossing it aside carelessly.

“Is it so hard to believe that she actually likes me?” Emma snapped. She picked the painting up off the ground protectively.

“Yes,” Barry said easily.

“Why?”

“Because she’s keeping you a secret,” Barry said. “Because if she won’t tell anyone in her life about you, then she’s a bigger whore than I was in the ‘80s.”

“Barry,” Emma exhaled. “Can you just shut up and let me live my life, for once?”

“Oh, now you’re a big girl? No need for the helpful advice of your dearest friend?” he said, contorting his face into an exaggerated pout.

Emma shot him a frosty glare.

“Who died?” Dee Dee asked as she approached the pair.

“Apparently, the woman I’m dating is an affront to the gay community,” Emma said, scowling at Barry.

“Not this again,” Dee Dee sighed.

“Barry, what happened to ‘everyone comes out in their own time?’” Emma pointed out.

“That’s all fine and dandy when you’re single, or just started going out with someone. But when you’ve been dating a young woman I care very much about for over a month and no one in your life knows, that’s when I have a problem,” Barry said, staring at Emma intently. Emma looked away, not meeting his gaze.

Dee Dee placed a hand gently on Emma’s shoulder. “Look. The point is, this woman that Emma’s with seems lovely and smart. We should support that!”

“Have you met her?” Barry said, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, no,” Dee Dee said, glancing warily at Emma. “Why haven’t we met her?”

“If you’re not even going to let us meet this girl—” Barry began.

Emma grabbed another painting from the stack. “You know damn well it’s not _me_ keep you from meeting.”

\---

“Why don’t you want to meet my friends?” Emma said, dropping a can of tomato sauce into the basket Alyssa was holding as they browsed the supermarket on Saturday afternoon.

“What?” Alyssa said, glancing at her. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve invited you out to hear my friend Carrie’s band, and to see Linda perform stand-up, and to just come to the gallery and meet Barry and Dee Dee,” Emma insisted. “Look, I understand that you’re not ready to come out to the people in your life. And I’m okay with being patient. But that doesn’t have to include the people in my life, does it?”

Alyssa glanced at the older couple shopping in front of them. “You know, it’s not really the right time to talk about things.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “But it’s never the right time. Even when we’re not even near your friends, which strikes me as exactly the right time. So I don’t see—”

“Alyssa?”

“Oh my god.” Alyssa spun around to see Shelby behind her, an empty shopping basket in hand. “Shelby. Hi, hi. Hi.”

“Hi,” Shelby said back with a curious look on her face.

“What are you doing here?” Alyssa said, her mind racing.

“Shopping, of course,” Shelby said, holding up her basket. “Well, starting to.” Her gaze flicked over to Emma. “Hi.”

“Hi,” said Emma with a small smile.

“Shelby, this is Emma, a friend of mine,” Alyssa said, trying to control her shaking knees.

“Nice to meet you,” Shelby said, giving her a small wave.

“Um, Emma, this is Shelby, a friend of mine.”

“What are you doing out? I thought you were laying low?” Shelby said, tilting her head as she looked at Alyssa.

“Yes, I was. I—we were. And then, um, my friend Emma here…actually volunteers for this charity thing. And, um, she—I had promised to help her make brownies today. And so we’re getting the ingredients. To make the brownies.” Emma was staring straight ahead, not saying anything.

Shelby glanced down at the shopping basket at their feet. There was a can of tomato sauce, a bunch of bananas, and a box of quinoa inside. Emma gave her a strained smile.

Shelby raised an eyebrow. “You must make a pretty good brownie.”

\---

“Lesbians?” Shelby said, mouth agape, as she sat in Alyssa’s living room.

“Jesus Christ, I couldn’t think of one thing to say. I couldn’t think of anything,” Alyssa moaned, burying her head in her hands.

“I don’t believe it,” Shelby said, shaking her head.

“I know, I know. It’s crazy, right? It’s like this surreal episode,” Alyssa said, shaking her head and running her hands through her hair. Her eyes widened and she shot up from her seat on the couch. “Are you horrified? Are you? Do you find me disgusting?”

“No, no, Alyssa. God,” Shelby said, grabbing her by the shoulders.

“Are you sure?” Alyssa whimpered.

“Are you kidding? I’m impressed,” Shelby said.

Alyssa winced. “You are?”

“I mean, I won’t say I haven’t thought about it myself,” Shelby sighed.

Alyssa stared at her, surprised.

“I mean, I can’t even get any of my boyfriends to use the sex toys I buy. I thought maybe with a girl, we could—”

“Got it,” Alyssa said, smoothing her hands over her brow.

“See, and you’re so…” Shelby added, pausing for a moment. “Conservative.”

At that, Alyssa had to laugh. “Fuck you, I know. I know.” She collapsed back onto the couch and Shelby sat beside her, wrapping her arms around her friend in a reassuring hug.

“Does anyone else know?” Shelby asked as she pulled away.

“No. No!” Alyssa bleated. “Are you crazy? You can’t tell anyone. No matter what you do; don’t ever.”

“I won’t,” Shelby said, throwing her hands up. “Shit. But you have to tell me everything. How did you meet this woman?”

Alyssa looked away. She didn’t answer.

“Oh my god,” said Shelby. “Don’t tell me. No, don’t. You answered that ad!”

“No! Yes. I just—”

“I don’t believe it!” Shelby shrieked. She whacked Alyssa with one of her throw pillows and cackled.

“I know, I know,” Alyssa groaned. “I’m a liar and a hypocrite.”

“Alyssa Greene,” Shelby said, shaking her head in disbelief. “I’m stunned.”

“It was a whim,” Alyssa wailed. “It was this wacky, nutty whim. I mean, I just read that ad, and heard her song lyrics, and I thought it would be nice to meet someone, just as a friend.” Alyssa’s heart was pounding faster and faster, and she pulled her knees to her chest, rocking slightly. “Oh my god, it’s all wrong. It’s all wrong. It’s not me. This has got to stop. I have to call her on the phone, and I have to stop it. We have to pretend that it never—any—nothing—”

“Stop!” Shelby said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Shh. You’re hysterical!”

“No, I’m not!” Alyssa howled back.

“Breathe,” Shelby instructed. She demonstrated, taking a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth. “Copy me.” Alyssa obliged, feeling her heart rate slow, and she leaned back against the arm of the couch, exhausted.

Shelby watched her for a minute. “What’s she like?” she said finally.

“She’s great,” Alyssa said instantly.

“Mm,” Shelby said.

Alyssa thought of Emma. Of her wry comments and sarcastic smiles. “She’s kind and witty. And quirky, and nurturing, and involved, and all that crap. But she’s a girl, you know? She’s—she’s soft and attentive and it’s all wrong.”

“How’s the sex?” Shelby asked. Oh, god.

“It’s good. It’s all good.”

“Really?” Shelby pressed.

“Yeah. Yeah,” Alyssa said, closing her eyes. “I can’t even tell you. She’s…when I’m with her. She’s incredible.”

Shelby was quiet, and Alyssa felt the want—no, the need, to explain to Shelby why this was so special. Why Emma was so special. “She’s smart,” Alyssa continued. “Smarter than me, in a totally different way. The way she looks at the world…we see eye to eye on a lot of things, but other things, she’s just the opposite. And I won’t get how she can see things like that, but she’ll make me look at things in a new way. And we disagree, but she just gets me. We click. When I’m with her, everything just comes together. I don’t even have to try.”

“Hmm,” said Shelby, squinting thoughtfully. “Yeah, sounds like you definitely need to put a stop to this.”

\---

The next morning, Alyssa woke up to a voicemail from her mother with two announcements. The first was that she was coming into the city to spend the day with her daughter. The second was that their first task of the day was getting Alyssa a dress for the Christmas party, and that task was not finished until said dress was tried on, approved, purchased, and wrapped in protective plastic.

Inside their third boutique and umpteenth dress of the day, Alyssa stood in front of a three-way mirror on a small stand. Mrs. Greene circled her daughter critically, gazing at her with a furrowed bow. “Mm. No. The color just isn’t rich enough. Try the red one.”

Alyssa stepped off the pedestal and headed back to the dressing room without even a backwards glance. Harsh judgment was typical of shopping with her mother. Once inside, she grabbed the red dress her mother had referenced from its hanger, sliding it on and zipping it up in the back. There was no mirror within the dressing room to see what it looked like, but it was comfortable, at least. Alyssa headed back outside and stepped back on to the stand in front of the mirrors.

Mrs. Greene looked at her thoughtfully, then got closer to feel the fabric of the skirt. Finally, she stepped back again. “You look beautiful, darling,” she said.

“Are you sure?” Alyssa asked, spinning to see the dress from the side.

“Yes,” Mrs. Greene said, nodding. She started to smile. “Don’t tell me you want to keep trying things on?”

Alyssa laughed. “Thanks, Mom. I think I’m good. But starving. Do you want to go eat?”

“You read my mind. I made a reservation right across the street.” Mrs. Greene helped Alyssa down off the pedestal, before casually adding, “And I left a message for Emma.”

Alyssa almost tripped, catching herself before she face planted into the carpet. “What?”

“There she is,” Mrs. Greene said, pointing towards the front of the store.

“What?” Alyssa repeated, looking frantically between her mother and Emma, who was quickly approaching.

“I thought she might want to join us. Hi, dear. How are you?” she said, gazing warmly at Emma.

“Hi!” Emma said, stopping to look at Alyssa with a curious once over. “Wow, what’s all this?”

Mrs. Greene laughed. “Very funny.”

Emma looked confused. “No, really, what’s going on?” Alyssa wondered if her new dress was sweat proof.

“We’re getting Alyssa’s dress, sweetheart. For the Christmas party,” Mrs. Greene said. “All of our family and friends attend.” She looked expectantly at Alyssa.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Alyssa said slowly. She pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and glanced just over Emma’s shoulder, unable to fully meet her eyes. “We host a Christmas party every year. It’s huge.”

Emma had a strained smile on her face. “No. No, you didn’t.”

“You didn’t tell her?” Mrs. Greene asked in surprise as she stared at her daughter.

“Oh, no, I did,” Alyssa said quickly. “I was sure that I had.” She scratched at her collar bone.

“When?” said Emma, quietly.

“When did I tell you?” Alyssa clarified, fidgeting.

“No, when’s the party?”

“Next weekend. Didn’t you get the invitation?” Mrs. Greene asked.

Emma stared at Alyssa for a minute, not blinking. “Excuse me,” she finally choked out. She spun around on her heel and speed-walked towards the exit, the bell on the front door clinking as she marched out of the store.

“Alyssa, what did I say? What happened?” Mrs. Greene asked, her hand over her heart.

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” Alyssa said, grabbing for her shoes and hurrying out to go follow Emma. “It’s, uh…her brother. He, um, died at a Christmas party.”

“He _died?_ ”

Alyssa didn’t have time for this. She raced out the doors of the boutique, still in her Christmas dress, scanning the sidewalk until she spotted Emma’s blonde hair halfway down the block. “Emma,” she shouted, shoes pounding against the pavement as she tried to catch up to her. “Please wait.”

Emma turned around, finally, with a red face and bright eyes. “You have a Christmas party with all of your family and friends, and you didn’t invite me. Didn’t even tell me?”

“I was sure I told you,” Alyssa said anxiously. “I thought I told you.”

“Stop saying you told me,” Emma snapped. “You’re a terrible liar. It’s one of your best qualities.”

“Okay, please. Please don’t do this,” Alyssa begged.

“Look. I am so tired of this. I am so tired of being left out of half of your life. We’re in a relation—”

“Shh,” Alyssa hissed.

“We’re in a relationship, whether you like it or—” Emma voice dropped to a whisper, and then she stopped. “Wait a minute. Why am I whispering? This is the point,” she said.

“Listen. We’ve talked about this. I never considered anything like this,” Alyssa said.

“But here we are. It’s happening, and it’s good, and I’m not ashamed of it,” Emma told her. “And if you are, then we have a problem.”

“Emma, this is good. It’s great. But I-I’m just not ready to deal with the complexities of…” Alyssa trailed off, looking helpless.

“God, you can’t even say it,” Emma said, shaking her head.

“I never imagined this. I never imagined doing anything like this,” Alyssa said again.

“Well, you are doing something like this,” Emma retorted. “This didn’t just happen to you.”

“It did,” Alyssa said. “I mean, it feels like it did, you know?”

Emma took a deep breath. “No,” she said finally. “I don’t know. I’m sorry. I can’t be with you, and be intimate with you, and share wonderful things with you, and then get shut out of the most basic things in your life.”

“What is so terrible about having privacy in this? In taking our time to see if it makes sense?” Alyssa said, tears prickling in the corners of her eyes.

“Because when you don’t acknowledge who I am to people that matter to you, it makes me feel like you’re ashamed of me,” Emma said. Her eyes were filling up, too.

“I’m not ashamed of you,” Alyssa said, her voice breaking.

“Well, that’s how it feels.”

“What do you want from me?” Alyssa asked softly. She swiped at her eyes.

“I want you to take me to your Christmas party,” Emma said, reaching out to touch Alyssa’s hand.

But Alyssa pulled back. “I can’t,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I just…I can’t.”

Emma stared at her, not blinking. “Fine. I can’t either,” she said, finally. She turned to walk away. This time, Alyssa didn’t follow her.


	5. Chapter 5

Alyssa went through the next week feeling numb. Emma cried in Barry’s arms and let Dee Dee ply her with her favorite snacks, but Alyssa just ate lunch every day with her friends at work. She spoke to her mother about setting up for the party. She attended a comedy night at a bar with Shelby and Kaylee. Everything was normal, so long as she kept moving. So long as she didn’t pause to think about what she had lost.

Until it was Friday, and Alyssa was at her mother’s house to set up for the Christmas party. Alyssa (under Mrs. Greene’s strict instructions) blew up balloons, draped streamers, and covered every room from floor to ceiling in lights. Once Mrs. Greene finally decided Alyssa was okay without her supervision, she busied herself with decorating the outside of the house, hanging wreaths on every windowsill and wrapping holly garlands around the lights of the driveway.

As Alyssa hung the final ornament on the tree, she collapsed on the sofa to rest. And to admire her work. But although the house looked beautiful, Alyssa felt a dull ache in her chest when she looked at the star on the top of the Christmas tree. It was the same star they had put on the tree since she was a kid, and it was as cheerful and twinkly as ever. But this year, when she saw it perched at the top, all she felt was empty inside. So much for a merry and bright Christmas.

“Beautiful decorating job,” Mrs. Greene said as she came into the living room and surveyed Alyssa’s work.

“Thanks,” Alyssa said flatly.

“Are you all right?” Mrs. Greene said, not sounding too interested in the answer.

And Alyssa could have lied. Could have said she was fine, just fine. “I don’t know,” Alyssa said instead, softly. “No.”

Mrs. Greene looked at her daughter and took a seat beside her on the couch. “What is it, Alyssa?”

“It’s just that sometimes, I think I’m going to be alone forever,” Alyssa said in a rush. She could feel tears sprouting for the first time since Emma had walked away from the dress shop. Alyssa waited for her mother to assure her that she was wrong, or that she was _right,_ and Alyssa better go meet her husband in the next five minutes or else. But her mother didn’t say anything.

“You can jump in any time,” Alyssa said, peaking at her mother out of the corner of her eye.

Mrs. Greene was quiet for a minute. “You’re my love, you know that?” she said finally. “My daughter. My heart. But sometimes, I worry for you.”

Alyssa tried to laugh, but it got stuck around the lump in her throat. “I worry for me too,” she said back.

“Sweetheart,” Mrs. Greene started. She paused, and then began again. “I will never forget when you were in the fifth grade. And you were so excited when you got the lead in the play. Do you remember that?”

“Really Rosie,” Alyssa said, recalling her how hard she had prepared for her monologue at the auditions. And how the rush she got when her name was called for the starring role.

“Really Rosie,” Mrs. Greene repeated. “And I came to watch the first day of rehearsal, and when we got home, I said…I said, ‘I don’t think you should do it.’”

Alyssa stayed silent.

“And you said, ‘why?’” Mrs. Greene continued. “And I said, ‘because your co-star isn’t good enough. And if your co-star isn’t good enough, then the play won’t be good enough. And do you really want to be part of a play that isn’t good enough? That isn’t the _best ever_?’ And do you remember what happened next?”

“I quit.”

“Yes, you quit. Because _I_ thought you should. And then we went to see the play on parent’s night, and they had replaced you with Hayden Shield.”

Alyssa thought back to seeing Hayden stomping around the stage in a feather boa and a voice that was completely off-key. “She was terrible,” Alyssa said.

“Yes, and that would-have-been co-star of yours was actually quite excellent,” Mrs. Greene said.

“He was. He was very good,” Alyssa said back. She tried to picture his face. It might have been Kyle Lim.

“And I realized something. I shouldn’t have told you not to do the play.”

Alyssa was stared straight ahead, not looking at her mother. “You think?”

“Yes. And for that, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Not just because the play would have been better. But because you would have been happier doing that play. Even if it was just okay.”

Alyssa shifted, bring her knees up to her chest, as she stared at the Christmas tree.

“Even if was great, just not the best ever.” Mrs. Greene continued. She took a deep breath. “And maybe it would have been the best ever. You never know.”

Alyssa felt her mother’s hand moving towards her, and then she grabbed Alyssa’s hand in her own, holding it with the kind of fierceness only a mother could.

“Alyssa,” Mrs. Greene said. The corners of her mouth were trembling, just a little. “I think—I think she’s a very nice girl.”

Alyssa turned then, to stare at her mother. Mrs. Greene was looking at her with very big, very wet eyes. But she was smiling. And Alyssa burst into tears, and she buried herself in her mother’s arms.

\---

_Knock knock._

Emma thumped over to her apartment door in her cat slippers and sweatpants. “Hold on,” she said, undoing the lock. She pulled the door back to reveal Alyssa, standing in front of her with mussed hair and a nervous smile. It was the prettiest, Emma thought, that she had ever looked.

“I’m wearing this,” Alyssa said, holding up her left hand to reveal her red dress. “Do you have any interest in this one?” In her right hand was a sweater with “get lit” written above a glittering Christmas tree.

Emma stared at her. “Are you asking me to come to your Christmas party?”

“I’m asking if I can take you to my Christmas party,” Alyssa said firmly. “As my date. And as my girlfriend.”

Emma was still staring at her, but she was smiling. “And you’re asking me with…that?”

Alyssa started to laugh. “It was the best I could do on short notice! All the good holiday sweaters are sold out!”

Emma shook her head. “It’s perfect. Yes.”

“Yes, you’ll come?” said Alyssa, her face lighting up brighter than the ugly Christmas sweater.

“Yes, let’s get lit,” Emma said, pulling Alyssa into a kiss.

\---

Back at Mrs. Greene’s house, Alyssa held Emma tightly by the hand. She mingled with her mother’s friends, her work colleagues, and her old high school classmates with Emma by her side.

Kaylee stood with Shelby, staring at Emma and Alyssa from across the room. “I don’t know what she sees in her,” she whispered.

“Kaylee,” Shelby sighed.

“She’s flat-chested.”

“Jesus, Kaylee.” Shelby pressed another drink into her friend’s hands.

Meanwhile, Alyssa stood chatting with Jess Boomer by the punchbowl. “I’ve been hearing your mom talk about “the one” for, I don’t know, like 20 years,” Jess told her. “I guess I thought it would be a man.”

Alyssa shrugged. “I don’t know if I believe in that anymore.”

“The one?”

“Men.”

Emma choked on her cup of punch.

“Alyssa!” Mrs. Greene popped up behind her daughter, per her usual method of appearing out of nowhere. “Would you help me find our Christmas CD?”

“Mom, I set up a Spotify playlist,” Alyssa told her mother.

“I want to make sure you didn’t miss anything,” Mrs. Greene insisted.

Alyssa shook her head and followed her mother into the basement to go track down the 30-year-old CD she was insisting on hearing. She gave Emma’s hand a reassuring squeeze as she walked away. Mrs. Greene could be a pain. But Alyssa also thought of how Mrs. Greene had responded when Alyssa had returned to the house, hand in hand with Emma in a “get lit” Christmas sweater.

Mrs. Greene opened the door to welcome them in and then stared at Emma for a minute, blankly. Finally, she started to laugh. She leaned in and gave Emma a hug, not even the littlest bit more tentative than the first time Emma had come over. She put a plate of cookies in Emma’s hands and put her to work in setting up for the party. And Alyssa couldn’t have been happier.

\---

Emma perched awkwardly by the snack table as Jess wandered away. She didn’t recognize anyone in the room. She peered anxiously at the crowd of people, before she turned back to scoop out another cup of punch. It was non-alcoholic, but her nerves made her wish it was straight vodka. Emma felt a tap on her shoulder and whirled around to see Shelby. Well, at least there was one person she recognized.

“Emma, hey,” Shelby said, giving her a friendly smile. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“You too,” Emma said, relieved.

“I figured you wouldn’t know anyone else here. Came to rescue you,” Shelby said.

Emma laughed. “You were right. Thanks.”

“No problem,” Shelby said. “So…you’re dating my friend.”

“I am,” Emma confirmed.

“Is she as type-a in relationships as she is in the office?” Shelby asked.

“I don’t know if I want to answer that,” Emma said ruefully.

“Don’t worry,” Shelby said. “I have plenty of other intrusive questions to ask you.”

\---

“Mom? Do you…do you think everyone is talking about Emma and me?” Alyssa said as she Mrs. Greene dug through old boxes. She tossed away a fake cobweb from their Halloween decorations and reached for another package.

“Sweetheart, can I tell you something?” Mrs. Greene said. “You shouldn’t care if _anyone_ is. I certainly don’t.” She patted her daughter’s hand. “Now, stop dilly-dallying. I want my CD.”

\---

“It’s just like kissing a guy,” Emma was telling Shelby.

Shelby snorted. “No, it’s not.”

Emma grinned back at her. “No, it isn’t.”

“How is it different?” Shelby asked, and Emma looked at her thoughtfully.

“I mean, I haven’t, you know, _actually_ kissed a guy. But it’s kind of hard to describe. It’s just…when I first kissed a girl, it felt like coming home.”

“Wow,” Shelby said, looking like she was trying very hard not to look too interested. “Wow.”

“It’s pretty awesome,” Emma confirmed.

Shelby’s gaze darted to the other side of the room, where Kaylee was twirling in the center of the room. She swallowed hard. “Huh,” Shelby said. She didn’t add anything else. Emma didn’t push her.

\---

Emma and Alyssa spent most of the rest of the night pulled apart by various guests. Either people had never met Emma before, or they had known Alyssa all her life, but felt like they had never met her before now that she had brought a girlfriend home.

That was the consequence of small-town living. But when Alyssa met Emma’s eyes across the room, all of the awkwardness and newness of the night melted away. Even when they were crossed in mocking, Alyssa could get lost in Emma’s eyes.

And when all was said and done, and every jacket had been picked off the ground, and every cookie had been eaten from the snack table, Alyssa was still lost in them. And then Emma wrapped her arms around her, and she was found.

“You ready to go?” Emma asked her, planting a soft kiss on the top of her head.

“I don’t think so,” Mrs. Greene said as she passed them with an armful of streamers. “I already have breakfast planned.”

\---

ONE YEAR LATER.

_Ring ring. Ring ring._

_Hi, it’s Emma. And Alyssa! Leave your message at the beep._

“Hello, my darlings. It’s Mom. Don’t forget, it’s the Christmas party tonight. And don’t try to weasel your way out of our matching sweaters. I have extras here just in case you ‘forget.’ And remind Barry and Dee Dee they’re not welcome if they’re bringing their Broadway songbook. Okay? Okay. See you soon!”

Alyssa was perched on one side of the brown couch in the apartment they shared, a mug of tea warming her hands and her girlfriend warming her heart. Alyssa glanced over to the other side of the couch, where Emma was reading a book, her glasses resting at the end of her nose. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, and Alyssa felt the urge to kiss it until it was smooth.

Instead, she poked the arch of Emma’s foot with her toe, making her yelp. Alyssa laughed as Emma dove towards her, ready for revenge.

Alyssa Greene was no longer concerned about her dating prospects. And when Emma kissed her, she was no longer concerned about much of anything. Anything at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! If you've seen the movie, you'll know I had to change the ending for Greenelan. I love Kissing Jessica Stein, but Kissing Alyssa Greene deserved a very different ending.
> 
> Also, you know I was going to slip some Kelby in there.

**Author's Note:**

> So, Kissing Jessica Stein is one of the BEST gay rom coms (quibbles about the ending aside). It was time to take it and make it 1. Gayer, 2. Greenelan


End file.
